Character: Peyton Sawyer

- When I saw you in the hospital immediately after the accident, I thought my mother was not so fortunate as you. And then I remembered that when she died, she was beside me Brooke. We were kids, but she came to me every day. Since then, she has become my best friend.
Life is short, Peyton.
It's too good to live it a villain. I can't betray.
- More than we already have.

You lost faith in me! For this reason, you didn't say "Yes". You didn't believe that I can! Never thought that I will publish your novel! Maybe you didn't care, because it wasn't about you and what you wanted.
- If it's true, I didn't care, then why is it every time I see this stupid book I buy it? Each time, Luke! You wrote that I'm wonderful! You wrote that I could become great, that we were destined to be together! You told the world about it, talked about it to me, and I regret it, because it is not true.

I come here, sit in silence, and...hear the echoes of who we were supposed to be. And dream about patience...and grace... and the power to give him to be happy. And most of all, I pray for strength that will not make his life worse because of my desires. This is the hard part...let go, you know? And that part of grace is really lame.

I'm your best friend, I love you, so I'm with you and I feel bad that I wasn't able to support you. Never think that you can't come to me for any reason. I'll be there always.

I once read a poem about a girl loving a guy who died. She imagined him in heaven, among the beautiful angels, and jealous. Ellie died, so now I imagine her among the bad angels. She hangs out with them in his black jacket and bullies. But I'm not jealous, I just miss it.

- Nathan, I'm embarrassed due to the fact that I'm happy.
- Life is striped, isn't it?

It's not that what you say and what you do. If you have ceased to like myself, be others. For you anybody will not make it.

I want to paint some considerable time. I want to draw blind faith, a fading summer or just a moment of truth. You know how it is when you first hear a good live band? No one says anything, but everyone is thinking the same thing, again we got something to believe in. I want to draw that feeling, but I can't. And if you can't, then I won't to screw anything up. It's too important to me.

Dreams are something like e-letters to ghosts.

I'm losing all the people attached. Every time I open person, he leaves my life, or dies, or moves, or they send him to Iraq...

People disappoint. I know. I even expect it. But what if one day I realize that I disappoint others..

First, you don't know me.... Secondly, the more I don't know...

Life's too short Brooke, to fight, to be miserable, to let the bitter ones change you.